


Golden Eyed Short King

by GashouseGables



Category: Life and Death - Stephenie Meyer, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Archibald is a jacked little hottie, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Height Differences, Jessamine barely remembers what shoelaces are let alone buttons, Lovey-Dovey, yes he's at perfect motorboating height but he would never
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GashouseGables/pseuds/GashouseGables
Summary: Holed up in their room, shying from the sun, Archie has an insecurity Jessamine aims to soothe.
Relationships: Archie Cullen/Jessamine Hale
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	Golden Eyed Short King

Jessamine watchea as Archie takes great care in sewing the torn button back onto her blouse. She feels a little foolish - she could have seen every thread give way as the button ripped off. It had sprang into the air as though given sentient life, and it had given Jessamine some moment of amusement, until Archie’s deft fingers caught the button in the next moment, a dark look on his face as he handed her his coat and instructed her to put it on.

Jessie sighs as Archie sits on the bed, his back to her as he fixes the button. It was just difficult; clothes never lasted long on the battlefield, and she surely hadn’t kept track of such things as a nomad. There's a strange mix of emotions from her mate - embarrassment and some sadness, but mostly annoyance. He had made the blouse especially for her, after all. Archie cared a great deal about showing her all the delightful human details they would immerse themselves in daily.

“I _am_ sorry," she announces to the room. It had quite spoilt their morning, after all, as now the sun was too high to risk the walk. Archie had planned on taking her to a cafe to practise feigned eating.

But Archie’s emotions ebb and recede like the tide as, with each pass of the needle, the button is reattached to the fabric. He turns his head to smile at her, bright and sunny as the sky outside the window. “It’s no matter - I only wish those great oafs hadn’t goaded us so,” this makes him sigh, as he slips the thread over his teeth to snap the needle free.

Jessie’s fun with the button had been witnessed by a few men on the street with them, and with their hearing it was easy to hear the jives and sniggering at them both.

“ _Oh, peach is a lovely color ….” One man had spoken highly of the brassiere that had flashed for a moment at the loss of the button._

_“Oh look, her wee man’s to the rescue!” Archie tightened the coat around her shoulders, and tucked the button into his pocket._

_Jessamine apologised lightly as she was shooed back towards the hotel, taking Archie’s arm and holding the coat closed with the other._

_“Good of her to take her neighbor-boy for a stroll.”_

Jessie frowns lightly. She hadn’t much cared about their comments - it was all irrelevant when she had been alarmed by Archie’s immediate displeasure. At which, she had thought was more her ruining the clothes he’d lovingly made for her.

She hadn’t realised their words had cut him, and feels a steady cold seize through her chest.

“I will get rid of them, darling,” she assures him, rising to her feet to grab her coat and the large brimmed hat Archie had picked for her as the most flattering, despite the unfashionable largeness of it. No petty humans had a right to upset her Archibald, especially considering she did not by all rights find forsaking human blood easy.

But at that, Archie laughs and plucks the hat from her head. Amusement washes over the annoyance, which makes her pause. “Never you mind that! I’ll have to get used to it. It won’t be the last time," his tone is rueful. But his amusement still outweighed the shame. “But their words didn’t worry you?” he asks her instead.

His eyes were gentle, and Jessie frowns. She doesn’t particularly remember human society or standards. That was what Archie had to teach her again.

She feels at a loss to explain. She's a little taller for a woman, she supposes. But strength, speed, control and diligence kept you alive, both as a soldier and a nomad. Archie having survived up until now, completely alone, spoke more of his prowess than height ever could.

“What does it matter?” Jessamine asks, frowning slightly. “When you never change, you don’t …” she holds up a hand vaguely, gesturing downwards. Other vampires would barely take stock of his height, surely - his talent, that would be forefront - his yellow eyes more so. Archie raises his eyebrows with a nod, as though she had confirmed his hunch.

“Your love is the only respite I have had in hundreds of years!” she says, feeling it inadequate to comfort him. But at her words, Archie beams, and his affection wells up in his chest like her own, easing her probably more than it did himself. But his reaction still upsets her. “It embarrasses you, my height.”

“ _No_ , _my_ height embarrasses me,” he says sternly, tapping her cheek to ensure she looks at him, and narrowing his eyes. “I want to stand up next to you proudly! I don’t want people thinking you’re my governess.”

Jessie shrugs, though she did not know the last word he had spoken. “I don’t care for people.” Now it was her turn to look stern, crossing her arms over her chest. “You told me that until I had more control, I should try and distract myself from them as much as possible. You’re not helping,” she reminds him, her expression a cold mask.

It has the desired effect; Archie easily laughs. It was so easy, but every time she elicits the sound from him, she feels more victorious than any win on the battlefield.

“I’m sorry, Jessie, you’re right,” he agrees with a bright grin.

He sits back, inspecting the perfectly sewn button with his critical glare. She watches him, glancing down at her bare shoulders. She had given up the blouse to be mended but had not bothered to wear another. Her scars shone stark and ugly. She kneels on the bed behind him, lips pursed.

“... I don’t care for people,” she repeated quietly, seriously, “But these Cullens … you’ll see, when we meet anyone else aside from Petra and Carlos.” Archie turned to her at the mention of her oldest coven-mates. Looking concerned at her obviously bothered attitude.

“My scars will scare them, all these bites … I’m disfigured,” she explains gently. When you come into this life flawless marble; anything to permanently mar your skin was damage indeed. “Standing next to you, I will look like a beast. Would you not feel shame for me?” Humans were irrelevant - but a coven he wishes to join? Perhaps would take him, and his immense gift, but may reject an old soldier for their own safety.

Because he will see, should they find this fabled family. How reviled, how brutal, she is compared to polished stone.

But for her affected manner, Archie gives a slight chuckle. “Be serious!” he scolds her, turning back to the blouse. His next words are pure, melting affection, “My warrior.”

His stark refusal to understand that to others she's not desirable, flattered her a little. But it would only mean a harder example when they did find these other yellow-eyes. But for now, with just the two of them, she settles, able to tuck her longer torso around his back like a cat, content as he leans a little against her.

Archie's holding the cloth to the light and plucking off another very loose button. “You must learn to be gentle with them, Athena, or we’ll have more accidents,” he adds casually, picking up his needle again. Jessie hums, much more enthralled by his fine, broad fingers manipulating the thread than his words.

Archie was short, he was right, but he wasn’t small. He was thick and stout, his shoulders broad, and his large hands gave away his age as much as his adam’s apple did. Like a racehorse jockey, his arms weren’t as long as Jessamine’s, but much thicker muscled, despite her more savage past.

She watches as he holds the button just so, in fingers that would just as easily be able to crush the metal as keep it steady. He enjoyed focusing on tasks such as these; the human need to clothes themselves was a source of endless delight.

But she's growing less and less delighted with his attention being elsewhere.

“Perhaps, less like Athena,” she begins airily, “I believe I’m more suited to the Amazons.”

Archie chuckles, nodding absently, “Yes, yes, ferocious.”

Jessamine continues in a light tone, “Except I believe, perhaps they would not take me. I still have both breasts, after all.”

At that, Archie glances at her, still in only her skirt and brassiere and Jessie isn't sure who the coil of desire in her belly originated from. She would have been worried at how entwined their emotions became, as though his heart was permanently under her skin. But she enjoys the sensation too much to find it within herself to be wary of it.

Archie smiles a little and tilts his head. He carefully puts the fixed blouse to the side and Jessie crawls up and wraps her arms around his shoulders. Now mostly perched on his lap, with her long legs still tucked behind him, she leans down and their lips meet sweetly.

She runs a palm over his shorn head, the sensation of the stubble as soothing as his answering purr.

“I think you’re at the _perfect_ height,” she says, playful, as she leans forward until the swell of her breasts press against his jaw.

He laughs again, gleeful relief, as, ever the gentlemen, he cranes his neck to press kisses onto her collarbone.

**Author's Note:**

> Smeyer said Jessamine was shorter than Archie but that's hardly the stupidest thing she's ever said.


End file.
